Herobrine
by NotPaul
Summary: While he can be very terrifying and feared, there are sides of 'Him' you might never know. There are secrets of 'Him'; tales untold. Well, perhaps even as players, we all can be wrong in our judgement.
1. Prologue

_**Herobrine**_

**Prologue**

* * *

A loud manly scream could be heard as a miner ran for his life, out of his wits, away from the abandoned mineshaft he just stumbled across few minutes ago. Behind him, a ghastly figure with glowing white eyes and blank face followed him, before he sneered and teleported in front of him. The said person screamed again, hollering a string of loud curses before taking off again.

And the ghastly figure grinned. Oh this is getting fun.

The miner quickly pushed the iron helmet on his head, and took off again, before he could see the trees around him losing all leaves, and it was getting dark. Whimpering, he quickly slid into a small opening and blocked himself with some dirt, hoping for the _beast_ to not look for him. Hoping so _he _would not come closer. He prayed to Notch for help before he could hear something exploded. Was that a creeper? No, no please tell him it's not. He was about to stay a bit longer before an explosion quickly blown his only cover away.

And there, back facing the moon, _he _was staring at him.

He screamed and climbed as _he_ brought a sharp one-sided pickaxe made out of unknown material – perhaps some kind of between diamond and iron – and slammed it beside his head, and the man ran and ran. What the hell?! This never happened before!

Tears poured down his cheeks and he tried to crawl away before the pickaxe landed a few inches from his neck. This made him jump away and look at those eyes.

His eyes.

He slowly moved back, trying to avoid those hypnotic eyes. He could not look away. He moved back and back.

He can't feel the ground underneath him, and with a slip he fell, down into the boiling lava below.

Before he died, he looked at those ghastly eyes and—

_You died!_

The figure let out a laugh as he could see the player flopping around before he died from the burns Much more amused to see all those valuable ores and diamonds sink into the lava, melting and gone under its heat. From far away, he could hear a loud scream of pure anger and cursing, and he chuckled.

Harassing these players is great.

He got up and dusted his teal t-shirt and hands, proud of another day of his menace, and went back to dig his way back to the Nether.

Serves that foolish player right for summoning the King of Nether to come to his lowly server!

As he got into a cave and dug some while until he breaks the bedrock and sealed them again, he smugly smiled. There are things these players should know about. First of all, he, of all people, is what people think he is, but at the same time, he is far from what they think he is.

Why is that so?

Perhaps these people, of course, are playing Minecraft. _Playing,_ for all gods' sakes, they are _playing_. Somehow, it is quite queer and hilarious for the demigod to rethink the fact that they can be too absorbed in the blocky game they can think like they are a living being coming out of it or something. Sure, all players are a part of the game, but that _does not_ mean they are born in the game. He meant—nevermind, it is too complicated.

Another fact is the stupidity of people trying so badly and working so hard only to _summon_ him. Yes indeed; lo and behold. The Herobrine, that's him, in front of their peasant bottoms.

Herobrine could not make sure why does these humans summon him a lot of times. The terrible thing is, since a mod to conjure him to their world exists, they had been calling and waiting for him like sheep, ready to be slaughtered. One side, he was pretty cool with it, since it kills his almost-everyday-uselessly-spent-time, but on another side, this makes him very fascinated. Of humans. For their foolishness and pathetic lives.

So, since he has nothing else better to do – except being bored – he decided 'answering their callings gratefully' can be a part of his job. In fact, it is an honor for Lord Herobrine to visit their servers now and then.

So far, he had visited around five hundred to eight hundred Minecraft servers in the world, for those who dared to try summoning him. He would have a lot of fun and watch in amusement as he could hear players screaming from their microphones and running around before trying to attack him, or just running away in the hopes of him not killing them. He would lay out traps too, just in case one of the stupid mortals happened to step on it, like that human hunting game made by Richard Connell, or whoever that is. Fun story. He learned a lot from the one Notch gave to him.

Right now, he was travelling all the way back to a side of the Nether under the bedrock layer. Notch created those indestructible blocks not only to piss players off by showing that they hit the bottom of the earth, but also hide the fact that Herobrine does in fact, exist there, and also his army. Much to everyone's dismay in hopes of finding it, there is only one opening to access his mansion, and he was sure there are no players who would sacrifice their TNTs to blow up all floors of the Nether only to find it, nor they will have the perseverance to use all TNTs in Creative modes. Because it's just a game, they thought, but it's pretty real for him.

Besides, his name is actually not 'Herobrine'. He has his own past, and his own name. It's not your concern for now. Not like he would love to remember anyway.

Herobrine entered his mansion after a few turns in a complicated maze as some creepers bowed in his presence. Skeletons stood firm on either sides of the inner gates, wither skeletons beside them, and Endermen teleporting to and fro to build the new upper wing with sculptured, glowing Netherrack and Glowstones, with the help of some zombies, his mansion is always quite busy. Of course, it was just for killing time, and Herobrine always liked huge homes anyway.

Herobrine walked his way to his throne room, stretching his arms and he heard a satisfying pop. A creeper slowly moved to his side, a tray of cold orange juice on his head and it let out its signature hiss to inform his master of his presence. Herobrine took the glass of orange and poured it on the carpet, and within seconds, zombies came to clean it up, licking the red fabric clean while the creeper's head hung low, leaving the area. An enderman teleported beside Herobrine and served him a glass of old wine, which was immediately taken before the obsidian-colored beast bowed and ported away.

As he walked towards huge carved spruce doors, endermen appeared to open them, and he entered his massive throne room, and sat on the throne, his servants closing the door as he sat. He sipped the wine and sighed. Today is terribly boring as per usual, and he frowned deeply. He needed a new game. A very, very interesting game to ease his never ending boredom. Snapping his fingers, some zombies entered, with books in their arms. They lined neatly beside the throne as one went up the throne, kneeled and presented the book to his ruler. Herobrine took it and read the cover. _'Me and My Unicorn's Secret'_...

A second later, the zombie ran out of the throne room, head severed on his arms.

Herobrine sighed. Honestly, they should have a better brain that that? He glared at the line of zombies as another zombie trembled, and moved forward to present his book. Before Herobrine can take it, a loud ringtone blared in the air. Herobrine let out a low growl of exasperation and dismissed his rotten underlings, before pressing a button and a screen popped out of nowhere in the air, a face of a very familiar human filled it.

_'Brother! It has been a while!'_

Herobrine grunted in annoyance.

Of course, it was someone none other than his god-human-brother, Notch. He seemed like he was in an office, with people typing things behind him and someone passing behind him, carrying some papers.

_'I see you are doing well in the Nether? Is it too hot? Too cold? I'll tell Jeb to program the temperature to suit you.'_

Herobrine shook his head, a still unamused expression plastered on his face. Notch grinned from the screen at his reaction.

_'No problem? Good then! I like to see my little brother good and well-'  
_  
_'Notch,'_ another voice could be heard from the background and Notch turned. Jeb was standing beside him, a mug of coffee on his hand. It was Jeb, the programmer, or second-in-charge god.

_'What did I tell you about spoiling that virtual being?'_

_'Shut up, Jeb.'_ Notch pushed him away and Jeb rolled his eyes, leaving the screen. Notch turned at Herobrine again, a nervous smile coming into view.

_'Geez, I'm sorry about Jeb, little brother,'_ he apologized. _'He thought I'm being funny because I kept talking to you. Maybe he's just jealous.'  
_  
Herobrine said nothing, his annoyance gone. Instead he looked down, sighing.

_'Bro,'_ Notch called out meekly. _'Don't feel so bad because you are just a program. I still love you as a lil bro, nonetheless. Besides, I'm quite proud of you. You totally scared my fans' wits off!'  
_  
Hearing those, Herobrine smiled smugly. Serves those fools who dared to summon him!

_'However,'_ Notch continued, tone suddenly serious. _'Jeb's kind of right. I think I'm kind of spoiling you.'_

Herobrine raised an eyebrow. You don't say?

_'I know, I know I'm a mother hen. But listen up. I heard what you've done to the mobs I have given you.'_

Herobrine's face fell. He was about to counter when Notch quickly added.

_'I saw you treat them as slaves, brother. They are supposed to be your companion. I don't understand why you treat them as... garbage. Whatever it is, I know they are yours, but I don't mean you are to act so menacingly towards them. After all, they are on your side.'  
_  
Herobrine waved his brother's face off. Why the 'brotherly lecture' now? They are his. He can do anything to them; in fact, he is the King. He can tell creepers to not explode, to tell endermen to take something less garbage than dirt, and he can also tell zombies to lick his shoes if he really must. Why does he have to care anyway? Not like they will not obey.

_'...so I decided to do something.'_

Herobrine blinked. Curses, he was too focused in his own thoughts Notch's words were gone unheard. He quickly looked up again, white eyes asking what does the god of Minecraftia wants.

_'I made a new Steve.'_

* * *

**Two stories in one day. Yay.**

**Thank you once more for reading. It is much appreciated. **

**Sorry for grammar errors and spelling errors. **

**Notch is Notch, Herobrine is Mojang's... or... a fanon getting canon character of Mojang **

**Jeb is Jeb**

**All is well**

**Thank you for reading.**

**Reviews will be much appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 1

_**Herobrine**_

**Chapter 1**

_To Hate and Attack  
_

* * *

The glass of wine shattered the very second in his now clenched hand, dripping to the carpet. White eyes were wide, staring at the screen with complete shock before it turns to complete anger, and Herobrine growled lowly at his brother, looking very, _very_ angry.

_'Brother, please,'_ Notch quickly continued._ 'I'm really busy lately; that's why I called around half a year once... I thought you'd be lonely, so I made an unplayable Steve to be your friend. He never heard your false stories, so you guys can befriend each other. Besides, you'll learn to be less violent this way.'_

Herobrine hissed loudly at the remark. Friends? Bah! He does not need one, nor do they need him anyway. Balling his bleeding fist, he clicked his tongue, showing his complete distaste of this horrible idea.

_'Brother, what else must I do?'_ Notch sighed, a hand ran across his head._ 'I can't come down there. I'll just be an avatar. I can't also spend my time 24/7 with you. You need a companion. Perhaps you can learn a lot from him.'_

Seeing his brother's unchanged face, Notch exhaled deeply, his expression serious but still soft._ 'Brother, I know your appearance and your liabilities make you hated. This 'Steve' I created will be your friend. He'll try to accept you whoever you are, since I bet there won't be others in that particular server, and it's limited so nobody else can enter._

_'This is the only thing I can do to you as a brother. Soon, I will be going for a very long time, brother. I don't want you to be alone. Sides', you could use some fun and a friend, right? Try to bond with him, and don't scare him as well.'_

Herobrine clicked his tongue again, looking away. How he hated his brother must be someone who 'absolutely ruled' over him.

_'I have to go now. I shall send the IP to the server in some minutes. By then, I will not be at Sweden, so I really cannot contact you.' _He smiled._ 'Try to not make a bad impression of yourself, alright? And get that wound healed.'_

The screen faded.

Herobrine looked at his hand, dripping with wine and blood. He shook his hand and it started to heal slowly, glass shards pushed out and dropping to the floor. Some zombies quickly enter to sweep it away, and left as fast as they enter. Herobrine sat on his throne again, a hand clasped over his forehead. The ticked-off face is still there. He contemplated about what Notch said, and he sighed.

Notch doesn't understand the problem here. Not like he hated him for creating Steve, but he just despises that look-alike miner a lot. By a lot, he meant he wish he could capture him, torture him endlessly just to see the human flailing and screaming and crying for mercy. Notch doesn't get it.

He was jealous of the 'new Steve'.

* * *

"Our plane leaves in five hours, just so you remember,"

"Okay..."

"Notch, are you sure this is a good idea?" Jeb raised an eyebrow, placing a mug of coffee on Notch's work desk. Notch sighed and rested his forehead on the palm of his hand, before massaging his nose bridge.

"I have no idea, Jeb," the Minecraft creator said. "This is a gamble."

Jeb sighed and patted Notch's shoulder.

"Even if he's virtual, I still love him, Jeb. I care about him. Feel like I'm his dad or bigger brother."

"You created him, Notch," Jeb said, sitting beside his companion. "I think it is very likely and natural if you treasure him a lot."

"I know..."

"So you talked to him? what did you say?"

"I made him another Steve," Notch mumbled, looking back at his friend. Jeb frowned.

"...You did...? But won't he-"

"He _will_ hate this new Steve," Notch looked to the dark screen of his Mac. "I knew him long enough to know what kind of devious plan he will come up with once I send him the IP address. I know that he's jealous of Steve. Maybe because he felt like he's just a crippled program and Steve is much more new and perfect.

"But I don't want him to be jealous. I wanted to make him a friend. That guy cannot possibly live forever below Nether without anyone else other than mobs. In fact, I think he's slowly degrading to nothing but killing machine. People playing Miencraft only picture him as a brutal killing psychopath. I want to change that."

"You can't change how people view him," Jeb informed the Mojang owner. "If they know Herobrine is different, I'm not sure what they will do. Most probably they will hunt him down. Or maybe even worse. Both of us won't want that."

"You're right." Notch mumbled. "But at least I can change him a bit. He can keep being 'Herobrine'; it's ok. But I want him to be... you know... human?"

"He's a computer program,"

"He is human in Minecraft. He's just having few bugs here and there, that's all,"

"Man, you're hopeless," Jeb snorted, sipping his coffee. "Whatever you say."

Notch chuckled, getting his coffee as well.

"Do you think this will change him back?"

"Let's see then. Let's see..."

* * *

Herobrine paced around in front of his throne, impatient. It has been an hour. Where in all Aether's name is the IP address?! Notch is sure always almost late in everything, Herobrine thought, growling. How dare he made him waiting this long, filled with anxiety and lust to torture the wretched soul? Pacing back and fro once more, Herobrine looked at the clock. An hour and one minute.

He decided he was about to leave the throne room to murder some of the peasant players to ease himself, but that is when a loud 'ping!' filled the air. He hurriedly pressed the button on his throne arm and the screen popped up, showing a long series of numbers and codes. Perhaps in binary; he never seen an IP address this complicated before. Frowning, he put a finger on his chin and tries to remember the IP address given. Of course, he could not let anyone find out about this hidden IP address. This Steve's his prey only, and no-one else shall know.

Maybe he also wants people to not know at all, because it would be amusing to see the miner so lonely.

After he remembered the combination of numbers, he nodded and snapped his fingers three times. The doors opened and a platoon of mobs entered. One row of twenty creepers, two rows of twenty skeletons and zombies each, some cave spiders at the back and spiders behind them, and wither skeletons and some zombie pigmen. Herobrine eyed his chosen mobs and he sneered. If this server is going to be his, then he's going to do this right to get the maximum fun from it.

He spun the screen towards them and pointed at it, gesturing who should they kill and what should they do. They all paid careful attention at his silent messages, and a zombie nodded anyway, despite its inability to understand things very well. A creeper hisses, looking at the other to revise what he studied in the drill just hours ago, and Herobrine growled, making the creature snap its head at the direction of the screen and stand still like a stone statue. In a mere few minutes, all of them remembered their new spawning posts in the server, enderman whispering at each other to remind one another. Herobrine snapped his finger and they all bowed down in perfect precision to their master, before turning and leave.

Upon their absence, Herobrine chuckled and sat down on his throne, tapping the throne arm with his fingers. Sure, he has to wait for some several hours or days before he could come and see how the miner is doing, but it's alright. As long as he can torture his doppelganger, waiting for a while wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Everything seemed so far away and peaceful.

Calm silence surrounded him, wrapping him in comfort. He shifted a little, and air bubbles escaped his half-opened mouth, before he opened his eyes, the color of amethyst. He looked around and blew the remaining air out and resurfaced from the water to catch his breath.

He clasped a hand on his head and combed his wet brown tufts of hair to one side, spitting some water out of his mouth, and he chuckled. Boy, swimming felt so nice. Especially in a warm climate such as this one.

The man swam back to the edge of the small lake, shaking his head as water dripped down from his well-toned body. He sighed in content and wiped his face, before taking his teal t-shirt from the ground and used it to dry himself, then proceeded to hung it halfway on his right shoulder. He grunted and fell on the soft grass below him, chuckling.

Well, this is a beautiful life.

He blinked, staring at the clouds. That's right. It has been around a week since he ended up in this place. He was not sure who he is, nor he knows where did he come from . whatever he knows, his name is Steve. Short from Stephanus. He was not sure how did he remember, but all he knows, that name is who he is, like it is flowing in his blood. Like he knows it a lot and he chose to be called 'Steve' himself.

He stretched his arms, seeing some sheep bleating in the distance, chewing on grass. Ah, it does not matter who he is so far. All he knows is he was a miner, and his name is Steve. He also seemed to know what to do with the stuff around him and how to craft and mine. So it's quite fine for him.

He propped himself up with an arm, before getting up and heading home.

His humble house is not far from the small lake. He has made a small farmhouse in the middle of wheat fields he toiled by his own, thanks from the advices of the villagers nearby. A small gravel path lead to the front porch of the house, and some roses adorned the spaces near the steps. Steve opened the fence gate and entered his home, and closed it behind his back. Not sure why, but it seemed safer if you kept your places locked and secured.

Steve entered his house to find it as warm and welcoming as usual. The smell of roses mixed with oak wood filled the air, and the fireplace from the evening's wood is still roaring, although not so much anymore. Steve reached down to take some oak slabs and throw it to the fire, and it brightly crackled once more.

The miner went to his kitchen to check his furnaces. He checked one out to find the beef steaks he cooked some hours ago are all well-done, and he stashed them into his inventory. Checking the other, he saw his fishes and pork chop cooked. Taking all of them, he went to a chest and stored his food in it, while taking out a loaf of bread and a piece of fish to eat for dinner.

Chewing the fish sandwich, he went to his trunk in his small bedroom, taking out clean sets of clothes; a white t-shirt and brown trousers. After he changed, he went back to the warmth of the fireplace. He sat on the wool couch he made in front of the fireplace once more and hung his wet t-shirt and pants by the hearth, hoping it will dry up in the morning. He only have four pieces of clothing and one iron helmet so far, which means he cannot afford to have them wasted until his sheep are ready for another shearing.

He took another block of wool from his inventory and placed it on front of the armchair for leg-rest, and he leaned to the couch, sighing comfortably.

Until a loud 'thump' break the silence.

Steve jolted up and looked around. _It must be wind_, he thought. _It must've knocked a branch of a tree to the wall. _He was about to ignore it when it clicked in his mind. His trees are outside the fence. How could it have tapped his wall? It surely cannot walk!

The atmosphere became heavier and nothing made another sound. Only the crackle of fiery charcoal in the fireplace filled the room, making it seemed more and more uncomfortable every ticking seconds. Steve drew a deep breath. As much as he hated it, he has to find out what that was. He slowly crept to the door and peeked through the window, very carefully.

There was nothing.

He sighed, trying to ease his shaking body. Maybe just a stupid bat. He chuckled nervously. Stop thinking so stupidly, Steve. There aren't any ghosts around. He spun around...

...and another thump landed on his door.

Steve quickly looked back, almost snapping his neck in the process. Now his heart is beating loudly; he could hear it in his ears. He swallowed, and stepped towards the door. What is out there? a hungry wolf? But he has fences around his house! He reached out for the knob and slowly turned it, pushing the door open for some centimeters. He once more peeked out, eyes darting around to see what was out there. He found none.

He frowned and slowly opened the door with a creak. The night air was chilly this time of the year, a villager said, but he could have sworn it was not this still. It was so silent. There were not even a voice of rustling grass. Just silence, and Steve was uncomfortable to no end.

The miner stepped out, making crackling noises on the gravel beneath his soles. His glance fell on everything in front of him, finding nothing. His heart was beating faster by now. Whatever this is, it is far from funny.

A strong gust of wind blew pass him, into his house and extinguished the fire and some torches inside. He spun to see the source of light gone, and he groaned.

"Really?" He grunted, rolling his eyes.

Before he could re-enter the house, he spotted something. A stick with feathers stuck on its tail jammed through his door. Is that an arrow? Then... who was-

Something zoomed past his head and nested on the wooden wall beside his door, breaking his train of thoughts. He managed to turn around in split second to find two skeletons facing his house, making loud clunking noises as they move. Steve's eyes widen, and without hesitation, he spun and ran for his house, arrows darting towards him. He quickly ducked and slammed his room door close, breathing heavily. There was a cut on his cheek, bleeding a bit, and instinctively, he brought a hand to wipe it away.

Now that he remembered, his room was in complete darkness. He quickly got onto his knees, and looked around in sheer terror. Right, he has another flint and steel in his chest. All he needs to do is to light the fireplace and torches up and he will cower in the safety of his bed until the skeletons decided to leave him alone.

He blindly groped around in the darkness to make out things before him, eyes darting around the room. The charcoal in the fireplace still crackled, glowing a reddish tint between its cracks. Steve tried to ignore the humming that he suddenly heard, and his hands moved to touch anything that might be considered a chest, and hopefully he can identify the chest he was looking for.

He quickly pried the lid open with his hands, trying to remember where he placed the flint and steel. He could not make out shapes from the darkness, but at last he found something that felt like the shape of what he was looking for. He whispered a 'jackpot!' and ready to scurry to the fireplace to light it on.

A very unfamiliar voice bubbled behind him and his muscles became stiff. It sounded like someone blew bubbles underwater, mixed with high and low pitches at the same time. Steve swallowed, cold sweat slowly forming from his forehead and he turned around…

He saw a flash of purple before he heard the voice of a broken radio, and a loud inhumane scream above him. Cracking his amethyst eyes open, he was greeted back by magenta orbs, staring deep into him, before another scream resounded from the creature above him, pinning him down with its claws. Steve gasped for air as he tried to focus – despite his position – and landed a knee on its stomach. The creature stumbles off him for a second before disappearing completely into thin air, leaving Steve gasping on the floor.

The young man quickly sat up and scrambled to his feet, looking around wildly. Just what the heck was that? His body still shaking, he tried to think. He looked around again before he could feel a blunt force on the back of his head, sending him flying to the wooden door. Before the miner could react, a claw pinned him to it by the neck, and another is holding his arm on his back in a locking position. Steve struggled for both freedom and breath. The creature had pinned him around a block from the ground, and he almost choked from lack of air. Its claws sunk deep into his back, and he could already feel blood seeped into the fabric of his white t-shirt.

The black-colored, tall being moved closer to his head and hissed, sometimes making little pitching noises and it growled, pushing Steve harder to the wall, and he whimpered from the pain. What can he do, now with him pinned like this?

Steve began to lose consciousness from lack of air and he felt drowsy. Still trying to fight back, he landed a few kicks back but to no avail. Sighing in defeat, he closed his eyes and fell limp.

* * *

The enderman could feel the man stopped struggling, and he slowly released him from the wall. Master said to torture it, not to kill it, and he was not very amused, letting it seeing hiss eyes like that but have to spare its life. He let out its signature chirp and dropped the human to the ground.

The human does not move, so it's safe, the black creature thought.

Leaning closer to it, out of curiosity, he studied its face. It was a male, perhaps. It looked a lot like Master, the difference is only it wearing white instead of Master's teal clothing. It looked a bit more… alive. He sniffed around. The human smelled like bread… and somehow fresh grass at the same time.

Humans sure are interesting. He never saw one as close before. It was his first day on duty, instead of being a construction slave for the Master. He felt really lucky to go on this 'special mission' with the others.

Before he could shrug and drag the human to the Nether, in a blur, something smashed on his head, and he could feel a burning sensation searing on his head and he wailed, holding his head and rolling on the floor.

Water!

_He was on water!_

* * *

Steve does not let this opportunity goes to waste. The water bottle closest to him was just to make it stay away, but it was by pure coincidence that it is actually its weakness. He threw away the still dripping bottle neck and he quickly dug into the trunk to find what he was looking for. Thanks to a village elder, he made it just in case something bad happened.

Reaching in, he pulled out a steel helmet and a stone sword.

He quickly used the helmet and the stone sword, and pointed it at the Enderman as it kept flailing around, hollering broken screeches and shrieks. He should kill him first before it could attack again, the miner though, and with shaking arms he raised his sword at it.

But it is hurting, though. He knows conscience against a thing is not of matter now…

Still…

* * *

The zombies and creepers waiting outside behind the bushes flinched as they hear the enderman's cry. The other endermen, wary and very concerned about their brother were about to teleport, but the Master's words echoed in their head to stay hidden until the human came out. Skeletons are still aiming at the door, and spiders are on the roof for ambush attack. Slowly, the voice died down, and the mobs are getting to grow restless. They only hoped their brother would spawn safely in the Nether; that is, if the Master does not find him.

A creeper, the same creeper who served the orange juice, hissed to his friend, nudging his female companion with its tiny, short legs to take the first move. Ladies first, he gestured. The female nodded, before she shook her head and made her way down the hill to the opening and began to flicker and expand.

With a loud explosion, half the front fences were gone, and there was a large hole on the dirt. An enderman, staring at a dirt block, tried to blow the cover to grab the floating little brown cube before its brother pushed him back, muttering angry chirps. The creeper rolled its head, and a skeleton clunked a somewhat sound of a chuckle.

They were quickly silenced by the creaking of a wooden door, and a limp form of an enderman was pushed out. The human has left its shelter, a stone sword in one hand, and it kept pushing the black figure out of his house. The hidden endermen began to mutter and growl in their native tongues, angry at the human for harming their brother. Must have used the accursed water, the human did. Very cunning. However, most of their focus is on the sword. It has a sword. And Master told them it would be unarmed.

The human was making its move. It looked around, sword clenched in one hand. A spider nodded at them, and he shrieked before falling on it. The human seemed to not notice, and was taken aback when the spider descended on it. It was pinned down in an instant, and it struggled. Enderman started to nod at each other to aid their furry eight-legged friend, while the creeper hissed a morse signal at their friends to go into fighting position - and shook its head in dismay upon knowing they do not speak morse.

Zombies are the first to approach the human. Well, they are quite the brainless group, so all they think about is the juicy brain the human might possess, or maybe a big one, because humans are smart.

The spider spun its web around the human, before a hard punch to his eyes knocked him away. The spider hissed in anger as the human tore through his webs. The human saw some silky string in its hand and glared back at the spider, spinning the thread around and caught him by his leg with the lasso and pulled hard, sending the spider flying away. Using the same sticky strings, it grabbed his sword and stabbed the spider right when he lunged back, and almost cut him to two. The spider poofed in a cloud of smokes, and the human darted around.

An enderman was about to strike it with his claws, and the human backed off, barely missing an inch. The human pushed his tilted helmet back onto his head and swung his sword at it. Before he could realize it, a creeper had crept behind him, and exploded before he could even blink. The force caused the human to slam to the fence, and it groaned.

The mobs were closing in. In no time, they can torture it, set its shelter on fire and left it to mourn over its loss. Maybe left it to slowly die.

Three endermen teleported around it, poking the human with their claws and the human flinched, fell down the fence and backed off to the nearest tree. Skeletons are ready with their arrows, and the endermen chirped aggressively. Creepers are just watching, hidden, maybe having a good opportunity to explode. The battle was so easy.

The human stared at them, looking scared. A zombie decided to grab it before the sword severed his head and was thrown to an enderman, and he hollered in anger. Something blue was thrown at them and the three endermen screamed upon contact with the wretched liquid and teleported randomly in pain. The creeper, seeing the opening for the human, quickly signaled the skeletons to shoot it ASAP. In seconds, arrows were flying towards its direction, and it yelped as it tried to dodge. An arrow had succeeded to penetrate its helmet while another had sunk into its left shoulder blade, and it started to bleed and cried in pain. More arrows are coming, but before they could finish it, it stacked two dirt blocks around its sides, covering it just perfectly.

The creeper hissed angrily and stomped the ground with its tiny feet. Another blow can knock the human down! He should have succeeded to gain Master's attention and now the human has tricks on its sleeves! It hissed to make the skeletons stop shooting the cover instead and turned their position to face the human right. The skeletons obliged anyway, and they marched and changes their position before aiming the bows at the crevice where the human should be...

...to find nobody.

A skeleton tilted its head to one side and clunked to the creeper, informing him that the human was gone. The creeper shook its head and hissed in surprise, a gesture of shock. He quickly ran to where the human was supposed to be, followed by his friends, and the endermen, who has recovered and helping their unconscious brother.

That's right. The human was gone. Only a block of dirt was not grassy. A zombie scratched his head, confused to no end.

The creeper sighed. The human must have disconnected from the server. There is no use for them to keep fighting to get it, and it's almost sunrise. With a hiss, the creeper told everyone that they might fail for letting it got away, or they are winning because they scared the human to his wits.

By dawn, the area had cleared up and the mobs had despawned back to their Master's mansion to wait for another night war.

By the time the sun is up, a loud digging noises could be heard from the lawn. A block of dirt popped into a small block and Steve gasped for air, climbing out from it and stacked the dirt back under his feet. He gasped and grunted as he squeezed the wound on his back to ease the pain and blood loss.

He needs a doctor now.

* * *

**Sooo I'm sorry for the long update**

**and sorry for thenotsogoodfightscene**

**Internet's having a problem. I mean a terrible problem, and whatever I saved will be gone and I am almost frustrated.**

**Welp, at least it's working now.**

**Anyway:**

**EmilyArtyPants : Ah yes, I like those too. They are quite interesting for me. I see there are good Herobrine fanfiction made by my favorite authors. You should know. If you don't, it is reccomended for you to read it. :3 -shameless promotion- **

**Enderdude: Thank you. **

**MyLittleMuffinZ: thank you. **

**DerpGirl: I just did and DERP. **

**About the mobs (currently), I have this idea about their respective personalities and occupation while serving Herobrine.**

**and I will be maming small shorts underneath the stories every now and then, if you like it. **

* * *

_**-The Mob Catalog- **_

_By a servant enderman_

**_-Synopsis-_**

**_This catalog, written in My Lord Herobrine's mother tongue, and also the mother tongue of humans, will be consisted of some short information regarding the mobs that are roaming in the Four Dimensions of the God Notch's Holy Land of MineCraft. _**

**_The words of My Lord Herobrine are absolute. "All mobs are required to fight when they are not serving Your Majesty Herobrine in his mansion." _**

**_This catalog will cover:_**

**_Creepers: Mainly servants or soldiers. Terrible temper, impatient creatures. Dislike people calling them short-legged or puny. They have the tendency of being that of high pride and strong leadership. High ranked creepers are usually the commanders. _**

**_Skeletons: Mainly mansion guards and archers. They are the most loyal servants. Have good sense of humor but they are almost robotic. Their lack of brain usually make them very gullible and easily manipulated, and they have the tendency to share the loyalty to one platoon and chose to move and work in precise movement. _**

**_Endermen: Mainly construction workers, sculptures, and gatherers. They are the most intellectual mobs, and they have a good sense in art. Most probably because they live in either The End to serve the Enderdragon or Nether in Herobrine, the different blocks in Overworld interest them. They call every of the other endermen 'brothers' (sometimes sister, but females are very few in Herobrine's mansion). They don't like stared right to the eyes. (Once, They tried to make the upper wing with TNTs. Herobrine almost killed them all.) _**

**_Spiders: Technically spies. Their trait of being neutral with players in the daylight are for spying purposes. They will report to their creeper commanders or Herobrine himself if it is very important. They can sometimes switch sides to gain human's food, and sometimes Herobrine would kill those who kept switching sides for a mere cooked fish. _**

**_And more. _**

**_The first Mob we are to discuss in the following are the Creepers. _**

* * *

**Alright, that is all for now. Wither skeletons, pigmen, and the others will appear later in the next or more chapters. Stay tuned!  
**

**Reviews will be appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hello and thank you for still following this story. **

**First of all, I would like to apologize for my terribly long absence. School has been a pain and well, living in an asian country requires high marks for your benchmark so yes, I have little time to upload this story. **

**At the same time, I will be trying to upload my other story as well. I assure you I made the other just for fun based on some events happening at my server (which address I won't share for personal reasons and it is currently down at the moment) and make it a bit more dramati for effects. Well, it is still fun, but I doubt Steve or Herobrine will be in it. **

**Carry on. I have received some warm reviews about my stories, and I really appreciate every of your input. Therefore, I thank you all my followers and I will try and make this story as interesting as possible for you to enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Minecraft and everything in it.**

* * *

_**Herobrine**_

**Chapter 2**

_To Wonder and Find Out_

* * *

Steve hissed loudly as the splash potion came in contact with his wound. His ruined t-shirt was crumpled on the bed near the pillow, half soaked with blood and dirty with soil. He cringed as the wound slowly closed, gripping the edge of the bed hard.

"There, it is done." The village doctor said as he placed the empty glass bottle aside. "So how are you feeling?"

"I feel better, thank you very much," Steve replied with a smile, moving his arm to ease the dull ache on his shoulder blade. The wound was closing by now, and the man felt refreshed already and he sighed. He has been limping from his ruined house for half a day before he could reach the village. By then, he was in the verge of losing consciousness. Good thing the doctor was kind enough to feed him village bread and a bottle of water. As Steve checked on his healing wounds, the village doctor was busy scribbling some notes on a book with his trusty quill and closed it, before going back to Steve with a bloody arrow on his hand.

"Do you want to discard this?"

"I think... I'll just take it." Steve muttered, reaching out as the arrow automatically added to his inventory and he took his ruined t-shirt and got off the bed. While he was at it, he took out 5 pieces of emerald and gave it to the doctor as a payment for the medication.

"It does not make sense. What kind of man would shoot arrow upon himself?" The doctor asked as he received the emerald. Steve shrugged.

"I didn't. Something else did."

"Something else?"

"There are monsters in the night," Steve pointed out. "I never saw them before, and suddenly they attacked me and such. I don't understand,"

"Nonsense," The doctor said. "There are never monsters around here."

"But I saw-"

"We never seen monsters since the day we exist," The doctor ended and went to a cauldron to wash his hands as Steve stood there, quite dumbfounded.

"But-" Steve shut his mouth quickly. Well, first of all, it is completely useless to argue with villagers. They are usually stubborn and down to earth when you start talking about something that they never see before, or those they don't believe in. Second, it is very pointless to have a long argument, especially in a clinic, so there is no reason for the miner to say anything else.

With a gratitude, Steve exited the village clinic. He would need new clothes soon; now that his clothing reduced to three pieces, including his favorite pajamas. Since he is still in the village, perhaps it would be a good idea to buy something. After all, he just scored some emeralds, so perhaps he could buy a cloth or two. Screw waiting for sheep shearing. Clothes now or walking around naked tomorrow. Steve would rather take his chances.

The village might be small, but the villagers always look so busy. Some of them are farming in their little wheat farms. Others took their children for a walk, and some were opening their small in-home shops as others came to negotiate the price. Steve could see a villager debating the cost of an iron hoe. Shaking his head, he went to a 'Clothes Department Store', or so what the sign said. In reality, it is only one opened window on a side of a small house, with a villager waiting there and some villager with his child was buying some robes.

"Hello there, stranger." The villager greeted as Steve came, his ruined t-shirt on his shoulder, but he did not seem to care. "Care to buy some sets of clothing?"

"Well what do you have?"

"We have white robes, pink robes, leather robe, brown robe, and our special, dark brown robe."

Steve mumbled a soft curse under his breath, exasperated, and sighed. "Is there something else? Like a t-shirt or some tunic?"

"We just have that one in stock," The villager informed. "Nobody was buying it. I was about to use it as fire fuel."

"I'll see them."

"Just a minute, stranger." The villager walked to the back of the 'room' and went down some stairs. Steve rested his elbow on the counter and looked at the child beside him, holding his father's tunic with worried eyes.

"Mom, why is that man naked?" The child ask in a small voice.

Steve's eyes widened a little. That's his mom- oh. Oh yeah. Sure.

"Oh no sweety. Don't look at the scary man." The 'mother' closed his child's eye and placed some emeralds on the counter, walking away fast as she threw a glare at Steve. Steve huffed in annoyance at the rude act but remained silent, tapping his fingers on the wooden block as he waited. Not long after, the villager was back with a chest on his arms, placing it on the counter.

"That is what I have," He said, turning at Steve. "I do not know about you but there is only white tunic and white t-shirt in it. Dyes are sold separately."

"Just what I need," Steve lifted the lid open to check inside. There were ten white t-shirts, ten white tunics, and he closed it and nodded. "Just what I need. Oh, do you also happen to sell trousers?"

"Well, I was about to throw that one away too,"

"...Nobody here uses these? I mean, aren't robes heavy?"

"Do not question our fashion, stranger."

A sigh. "Fine."

After Steve received another chest of ten trousers and went into a long price negotiation, the clothes were sold for thirty emeralds. Before he left, however, the miner requested to borrow a room for a while to change his clothes; at least to look more decent and clean.

Perhaps not as decent as he thought.

"Mommy, that same man's using all white," The same child pointed at him as Steve grumpily walked home, carrying a chest. "Mommy, is that an angel?"

Oh Notch, this is terribly embarrassing.

* * *

By that time, our little friend the creeper who brought the orange juice - which is now dubbed Bobby - has hastily made his way to the throne room, as fast as his small legs can carry him. The creeper was almost full of himself with his good deed. He just scared the human away! Master will be so proud of his work.

Bobby pushed the door open with his head and walked as decently as he could in front of his master, and bowed within his presence, his head touching the carpet. Herobrine tapped his armrest twice and the mob looked up, hissing everything he had done, trying to seem proud more than excited, at least to look cooler in front of the Master. Perhaps he can brag with his buddies later, he wouldn't have known.

Herobrine lazily nodded from his throne, showing his utmost disinterest and Bobby's hopes crashed down immediately. The creeper stood there, frozen for some seconds before he nodded and saluted, before walking away sadly.

As the creeper left the room, Herobrine sighed. His mobs are not doing anything better these past few weeks, and somehow he was disinterested with whatever they do. Of course, he told them to scare this new Steve out of his skin, but he felt it was not enough; like he was so used to it he forgot how good it felt to scare people. The Nether King rested his head on his hand, fingers tapping the armrest once more. Somehow, he felt really disinterested sending his mobs to scare the miner. It's not enough, obviously.

Perhaps he should meet him himself. Maybe that will make things so much easier, and fun.

But no. He has to be patient for a better outcome.

Notch's words echoed in his mind, giving him a silent reminder.

'_Try to not make a bad impression of yourself, alright?'_

Bad impression? Herobrine scoffed. He is always the example of 'bad impression', perhaps due to his physical defect. His hand instinctively waved in front of his white eyes, touching the eyelids gently. His eyes are always what people are scared of. Maybe because it's something they cannot understand; seeing someone with white eyes are scary enough for most people.

Why is he thinking a lot lately? The Nether King frowned, his hand fell back to his side. Since that new creation coming around, he felt he was back looking at a mirror. He felt like once more, he has to reflect on his weaknesses and liabilities. He has to once more contemplate his condition and why he was here for the first place.

Unforgivable.

Perhaps Notch created him for friend, but the King does not need friends. He has unlimited supply of ever-spawning mobs, food, comfort and authority living like this. He has everything. Surely, he does not need a puny miner to go along with him.

_Unforgivable._

Herobrine gritted his teeth. His anger once more boiled inside of him. He clenched his fist in rage.

This Steve has to go.

* * *

Taking another chest full of wet clothes he just dyed in the streams, Steve quickly arranged them outside on the makeshift stackable fences to dry and quickly got inside his house before the sun sets. Steve sighed and looked at the clock, showing it is about 7 p.m. and he praised whatever god is out there for his punctuality. Taking his shirt and trousers off, he went into the shower to wash himself from some excess dye stuck on his face and arms.

Steve crashed to his armchair and let out a muffled, tired groan. After a long day of fixing his house, planting some of his blown-apart wheat back, adding more torches and fences and setting up a new iron door, he would certainly rest peacefully for the night. He could hear some zombies banging at the door already to no avail and he sighed. At least there are just these things out there, and he wish his wheat farm will be safe from being trodden.

Strange... He never saw these monsters... or harm any of them. Surprisingly, they just came out for him altogether, like he was the only target they have. Steve didn't have a clue why. The village looked okay and nothing touched it, nor attacked it. Even the doctors said, there are no such things as monsters, so nobody has seen these. Yet there they are, banging on his door and moaning and wailing like an incoming death. Perhaps because the villagers live together in a group and he lives far away from them? The miner shuddered, before going to shut the drapes and turn his jukebox up to the fullest volume possible, at least to drown the loud growls the creatures make.

He wondered what make his life very miserable now. It has been a week - based on the rise and fall of the sun - and one day, and he still doesn't know why he was here, why he was placed here of all places. He was scared, he was alone.

Steve remembered the first day he woke up due to the strong sunlight. He remembered how helpless and confused he was with the vast world around him. Heck, he even thought cows and pigs are dangerous. He remembered how hungry he was, how hopeless he was and how naive and stupid he was. He remembered how lonely he was.

He was still lonely.

Steve sighed deeply, looking at the door. Guess the zombies are getting tired already. He could hear them walking around looking for another opening, and the pounding died down a bit.

There is someone he remembered. He knew the person. He was his brother, or so that is what he said. He led him to the village where he can eat and drink as much as his heart desired, taught him how to build, and how to hunt. His face never changed, his mouth never moved, and he walked rather stiffly, but Steve could hear his voice loudly and clear in his ears. The person told him that he is someone important. He told him he has a goal, that is, to make friends. Of course, the thought of befriending someone is appealing to the miner, although it is such a simple matter. He told the miner a name and that no matter what, he has to accompany him.

The next day, his brother was gone.

Steve clasped a hand over his eyes and sighed. What does that person mean? He has to find out.

_'There's a library in the village,'_ Steve thought. _'Maybe I can find something about whatever is around me. Maybe I will know why these things are after me.'_

The hearth crackled and he shifted from the warmth, yawning.

"Maybe by tomorrow, I'll know this world more, Brother Notch,"

* * *

**Alright sorry for the freakishly slow update. I really apologize for the inconvenient. **

**Also sorry for the crappy piece of writing because I also have a writer's block. **

**Currently, my blasted curriculum has forced me to slave myself and study like a lunatic. Also, there were something going on that I can't really tell, so this chapter is a short one. **

**I apologize dearly for that. **

**So in this chapter, More likely I would be focusing on Steve and Herobrine's thoughts. Sure they haven't met each other, but who knows? And dun dun duuun Notch told Steve that he's his brother. Oooh, would be a 'sibling-sibling' rivalry here?  
**

**I promise for a longer next chapter when I have more free time, and when my half-writer's-block is gone. **

_**MyLittleMuffinZ: Not a very symbolic meaning, however. He loves to change his clothes all the time to something less dirty, and since this is a 'special inaccessible server', there are some things that the inhabitants can do, e.g. washing clothes, making clothes, cooking more food, etc. **__**But It is very nice of you to have those thoughts. I might add symbolism to later chapters, to be honest. c:**_

_**Viridiani: why, thank you. c:**_

_**BlackDragon41: Why, thank you so much. I really enjoy your stories as well and I keep track on every updates. And yes, Herobrine is very, very jealous of this new Steve. Wonder what makes him act so strangely emotional? :3**_

_**DerpGirl: Thank you so much and DERP**_

**That is it for now. I hope you enjoy.**

**More coming soon. **


	4. Chapter 3

_**Herobrine**_

**Chapter 3**

_Hidden Answers_

* * *

Steve sat on a chair, placing the stack of books on his right. The library is not very big, so he could only find some of the most useful book by title. The miner took one and started to read, sometimes his hand scratching his new black t-shirt. New clothes are sometimes so itchy after dyeing.

There were old scribbles of old tales. Most of them were about the villager's history that does not involve any monsters, and Steve quickly flipped over them to not waste time, his amethyst eyes quickly scanned through them. Tales of how civilization started, tales of how they learn to fish, to craft, and so on. Steve frowned deeply. There are no monsters in this record. So what are those? Is this the first time monsters came by?

Steve quickly put the book on his left and goes for another. And another. And another.

And our favorite miner let out a silent scream before he planted his face on the desk, thoroughly irritated.

There's nothing. _Nothing_ at all. It is useless. Steve grunted. How could a library doesn't have anything to do with monsters and arrow-shooting skeletons and green creatures which literally _explode_ in the radius of two blocks? Maybe he was going insane. Yes, yes perhaps he_ is_ going insane.

"Hello, stranger," A nudge to his back made Steve jerk upright, surprised. "Do not sleep in the library, stranger."

Steve scowled, rubbing his back. "I am not sleeping. Just bothered by this library's lack of information."

"Lack of information? Why stranger, what kind of book are you looking for, then? The library have everything." The village librarian asked, wiping a book onto his; or her - Steve was not sure- pink robe before placing it to a bookshelf.

"I'm looking for something about monsters. Something about uh... living corpses and black tall people... or something." The miner answered, shoving the stack of books away from him.

"Why do you need to know about them, stranger?" The librarian looked back at him, and Steve's eyes darted away. Well, first of all, he does not want this librarian to think he's a delusional person. Second, there's no reason for him to know. Steve does not talk much if it's not worth talking.

"I'm just curious," he said at last, and the librarian blinked once or twice before his mouth formed a huge square (There are no such thing as round or circle in Overworld, anyway.) before he scurried back to the library, behind some shelves. Steve's eyebrow raised in confusion from the sudden action, and shook his head before he waited. Perhaps there is something worth reading anyway.

The villager rushed back not long after, carrying a stack of books and dropped it to his side, and Steve instantly cringed in absolute confusion and amusement of how the villager can mysteriously collect those many books in a blink of an eye.

"I found some books that may explain them to you, stranger,"

_'Some...'_ "Please, just Steve."

"...Very well, Stranger Steve."

A facepalm.

"Shh, Stranger Steve," The librarian hushed from the slapping noise and placed a book in front of him. "_The Curse of the Black-haired Villager_ by Villager? Is this the book, Stranger Steve?"

"...No. That's not what I'm looking for... Wait, is this labelled horror?" Steve eyed the book, flipping it around.

"Of course! Hair is terrible for us villagers!"

"...But it's norma-"

"Do _not_ question our traditions, Stranger Steve!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Alright.. but this is not the one."

"Alright then," The librarian took another book. "_The Curse of the Black Villager_ by Villager?"

"No... That... sounds very racist."

"_The Monster of the Villager Creek_ by Villager?"

"...You have a creek? And No."

"Umm... How about _The Age of the Dark Village Knight_ by Villager?"

"No?"

"_The Villager and his Wolf_ by Villager?"

"No, and wait. 'Villager' wrote all these?"

The librarian scoffed. "No, Stranger Steve. There is Villager, Villager, Villager, Villager, and Villager. They are writers."

"Hold on. Everyone has the same name?" Steve asked, of course. He is very, very confused right now.

"No, Stranger Steve. There are Villager, Villager, Villager, Villager, and Villager."

"They are. All. The same." Steve flailed his arms, trying to keep as quiet as possible. The librarian shook his head, also annoyed.

"_No_, Stranger Steve. One is Vi-lla-ger, the second is Vil-lag-er, the other one is V-illag-er, the fourth is Vil-la-ger, and that one just now is Villag-er, and my name is Vi-lla-g-er."

"Oh gods kill me..." Steve muttered under his breath, head on his hands.

After about half a day, the librarian presented the books one by one, and Steve, in the edge of falling asleep, shook his head for god knows how many times as the villager looked down in disappointment and placed the book back to his side.

"Is there not some book I can get?"

"I do not know what book you meant, Stranger Steve."

"How many books you have left?"

"There are two more. These are journals."

"...about?" By now, the miner is too tired to even care.

"A journey by an old insane villager. It is his journal by Villager."

"Ahh, Villager."

"No. Vil-lage-r."

"Ok, ok. Veel-leigh-her. Where is this man now?"

"Dead."

"Why am I not surprised..." The miner mumbled.

"Ah-ha!" The librarian exclaimed, and Steve shot up.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing."

Steve felt he wanted to burn the library down by now.

"Oh look. There are something about walking corpses."

Steve jerked his head at him quickly. "Pardon me?!"

"'_I have ventured across the plains and forest biomes, littered by walking dead, followed by green creatures, and the evil three-block high demons who would slay me upon eye conta-_'" The librarian was halted abruptly by Steve's hand on the book.

"I'll take these two. _Now_."

"I haven't even ended the paragraph with my awesome narrator voice..." The librarian looked down sadly, before quickly standing up straight with a happy face. "Very well then!" The librarian quickly went to stamp the books and handed them to Steve.

"Remember. No water, no blood, no dirt, no milk spill, no lava spill, no wheat seeds leftovers and most importantly _do not lose the book_! Every one day late will be charged for a gold ingot and losing it will cost 5 emeralds! Return it in a week."

"I... will?" Steve graciously took the book, although perplexed. "Thanks anyway."

"Thank you for trusting the Village Library, Stranger Steve," The librarian beamed. "I told you we have everything!"

* * *

Bobby stared at the orange juice served in front of him, untouched for some minutes. The ice inside had started to melt by now, but the creeper cared less. Bobby shifted and hissed in depression.

Right now, he was sitting in front of a bar counter in the mob recreation room, or the only floor the mobs can have fun in. There's a billiard pool, walls made out of coal ores, steel ores, gold ores, lapis ores and a diamond ore too, a small jacuzzi in a more enclosed part, and some dance floor and jazz by some skeletons in the background, with bartender-man (haha. get it?) and waiter endermen. The average creeper does not understand what he has done wrong. He really worked hard on the plans; he really did. He trained the skeletons and thought of the best way for them to sneak properly behind the target before exploding, he did everything right.

It's not fair.

Just because he's a creeper does not mean he's a useless green puny-legged castaway, the creeper thoughts as it picked the glass with his mouth and chugged it down, before slamming it down and quivered from the coldness, his side of his face sticking to the table as his vision started to spin and spin like a demented merry-go-round.

A hand rested on the creeper's head and it hissed in surprise, the fuse in its body started to light up before the another hand grabbed him by the head and shook him like a nut can before setting him down on the chair, and Bobby's head spun and spun before the fuse died down and the creeper shook his head and angrily spat ash at the blurry figure who dared to touch him. He was not a touchy-toy, and he doesn't want to be touched by anything right _now_.

The enderman confusedly stared at the little creeper, who shooed him angrily with one of its legs, and it's the left hind leg. Which means it's thoroughly in a terrible mood. And at the same time, calling him a trash. It's a creepers' gesture.

The enderman's face remained blank, but its voice was some octaves lower, meaning he's serious and shook the creeper again before the creeper hissed loudly at his face like a little creeper grub throwing a tantrum. The enderman grabbed it by its head again and it writhed and kicked and hissed all the way, and the two received glances by every mob in the mob recreation floor. The tall creature, embarrassed by the immature actions of the green living explosive in his arms, teleported away from the floor with it.

Bobby hissed at it to let go, starting to shake and expand a bit, but not in a verge of exploding as the enderman placed him on the ground. The poor creeper ran in squares (again, there are no such thing as round or circle) upon freedom and tripped, before huddling in the corner.

Which completely showed how drunk he is.

Yes, creepers got drunk on orange juices. Nobody knows. See if you can find oranges in Minecraft and prove it yourself.

The enderman stared for some minutes before rolling its eyes, and proceed to bend down to poke at the creeper's stomach, only to receive its only response: curling even tighter.

The enderman's voice bubbled again and in a provoked noise, shoved it up and looked at its face. Not necessarily eyes, he never liked eye contact. It told the creeper to push himself up together before he has the thoughts to ball his fist and punch its face. The creeper looked up, realizing that it's his enderman buddy, Stan, who got knocked out that day of attack.

Well lo, losers assemble.

Stan glared at him, shaking him once more. He reminded him how disappointed he was to find his buddy went to get drunk in the bar, because Bobby never even dared to touch a glass of diluted lemon juice. Bobby looked away, feeling completely hopeless. Whatever Stan said does not matter.

Stan shook his head. He knew being in a platoon means everything to his little buddy. But he's still in a platoon, the enderman emphasizes with its chirps and mumbles of motivation. Bobby still had a chance.

He was taken aback as Bobby looked up with wide eyes and it hissed softly. The enderman patted his best friend and urged him to get up and return to the room, before he realized Bobby's eyes watered, and he knelt in front of him, patting the creeper.

The creeper looked so strong, but in reality, he's not, Stan thought. It must be hard for a 3 years old (for us humans, 21 years old) creeper to try and prove himself in the middle of more and more stronger creepers. It must be hard for the young creeper to try and stand out and prove himself. That's why he was here; to support his best bud no matter what... No matter where and whe-

Wait, why is Bobby heaving?

Before the enderman can even realize what happened, the creeper vomited wet ash on his lap before stiffly fell smack to his side, completely wasted.

Stan was not sure if he should not scream.

* * *

"Welcome back, Sethbling here,"

The Mario-skinned person avatar around, holding an enchanted Power III diamond and standing in the middle of the plains, looking at a seemingly non-existing screen.

"...So based on your comments, I tried a Herobrine Mod just for you. And uh... as you guys have known since yesterday, we have been waiting for the appearance of Herobrine, which has not appeared yet, but I'm sure today he'll going to be around the corner to greet us all.

"Well today, we're going to..."

* * *

A new Herobrine totem has activated. It is the third one this week, but the demigod does not care less. His only priority right now is only to get that Steve and wring the life out of him. He was angry, he was jealous, and he was everything negative. He was far from happy or mischievous. He's just an angry, angry king, and nobody would dare to even cross his path.

Herobrine growled. He cannot wait anymore. In fact, he was too pissed to even think of the best outcome. Good outcomes or bad outcomes or boring outcomes are not important, because at last the Steve would die and erased from the server anyway.

The problem is, he wanted that Steve to be lonely as well. He could not just appear when he was in the village, or inside his room. He has to appear in dark places because Notch told him so, and the time he spawned in someone's well-lit room, it does not end well.

He needs to re-adjust his plans.

* * *

Steve intently read the journals after some hours assembling higher fences and more iron doors. He could not hear any noises of zombie banging anymore. The fence was now three blocks high and it formed a cage around his house. Spiders, skeletons and whatever cannot ever enter, and he was quite pleased with his work, although his work formed something resembling a battlefield now.

There are things he learned from the journals. First of all, the villager does not look like an ordinary villager. He has different skin tone and eyes just like him, except he was less tanned and he wore a hat on his head. This adventurous young man was called Ben_j the Villager. Not a very common name but Steve felt like he has no rights to ask about it, so he remained silent and shrugged the thoughts from his mind.

This Ben_j hero is very generous to draw and classify each of these monster called Mobs. The green exploding creature is called a Creeper, which are solitary beings most of the time. There are also Endermen, Skeletons, Spiders, and more, which he carefully read one by one. He has to know their weaknesses and how to slay them in this stage if he wished to survive, as much as he hated killing things. (Except in dire need of food...)

The creepers and endermen were one of the strongest, based on the journal. However, creepers are scared of cats and endermen, as he had known, are afraid of water. This settles things to buying a cat, or look for one, and bringing a bucket of water wherever he goes, then. For zombies and skeletons, they are mostly burned under sunlight so he'll stay indoors as much as possible.

"This book is really interesting," Steve wondered, throwing another block of tree into the fireplace and continued reading. "With all these stuff about these mobs and stuff..."

There are some more of this Ben_j's quest around the Overworld. He found temples, found underground abandoned mines. This is not Steve's life. His life is only that of a cozy, calm life of a regular farmer and part-time miner. No adventurous life, no walking around.

Steve is not a person who's looking for blood-pumping experiences.

Steve reached out to take another block of tree trunk before the book slipped and fell down. Steve growled and tossing the block an picked the journal up.

Some crude illustration piqued his interest.

It was a drawing of a man. Or at least, resembling a man. It was just a silhouette though, but something bothers him. The eyes were empty. It was like he was drawing a man with glowing eyes.

"_'It was that thing. It was after me.'_" Steve read aloud.

"_'Oh my god this mod actually works! I can't believe Herobrine came here! He's kind of scary and he seemed quite idle. I don't know. He just stared there and did nothing to me, so I ran away before he could do anything_'... What is this 'Herobrine'?" Steve wondered. "And how does 'Herobrine' has anything to do with the illustration? What's a a 'mod' anyways..? Maybe he meant his friend. Yeah. Maybe this is just a drawing of a short enderman... I don't know."

Steve shrugged and kept reading.

_'I hope Herobrine really won't attack me, though. It's pretty creepy that he's around already. I wish he won't-'_

A loud knock at the front door made Steve jump out of his armchair. He sighed, heart pumping inside of his ribcage before he went to the window to peek. There was a villager standing there in front of his fence fortress and Steve raised an eyebrow before opened the door and walks out rather timidly.

Strange, he doesn't see any mobs.

"Hello," The villager greeted. "Fine evening."

"Yeah... Silent evening indeed..." Steve replied politely, the face of utter confusion never leave his face.

"Why did you barricade your house?" The villager asked, and Steve shrugged.

"Wolves," He lied through his teeth. "I upset one of them this morning. Yesterday a pack came to destroy my field, so I put up this for defense."

"Aaah," The villager nodded. Steve looked at his face. Somehow, this villager looks tad more tanned... and his eyes are more to teal than green. His face was also very blank, like a zombie.

"Do you... want to come in?"

"It is fine. I can stay out here. Except if a wolf comes. You have to open it for me,"

Steve chuckled. "Well, what is it I can help you with?"

"I need some gold, stranger." The villager said. "I am planning to make a watch. For uh... My wife."

"...I see."

"We're newly wed."

"Alright then. How much would you pay me for it?"

"20 emeralds."

At this, Steve felt very, very unsettled. Villagers never would pay that much for gold ingots. Gold is almost useless. They would pay three emeralds at least for one ingot, but this villager seemed to be so generous.

Very queer indeed.

"...how many ingots do you need anyway?"

"Just three."

Totally suspicious.

"...I uh... sure. I'll get them for you."

"Thank you, Steve."

"Well, isn't it about time I heard some villager called my name properly." Steve crossed his arms and smiled. "I'll give you a discount then. Maybe only 15 emeralds?"

"Agreed. I'll wait for it in three days at least?"

"Okay. I'll get them for you. And congrats with the wedding!"

"Thank you." The villager smiled slightly before turned and left. Steve's smile fell, before he walked back into his protection.

Not far, the villager's skin started to burn to ashes. bit by bit. patches of skin were flying and dissipating into the air, showing the tanned skin below, and the very familiar face and eyes.

Herobrine patted away the remaining ashes he stood there, his eyes glowing bright and he sneered.

Seemed like some miner would get in trouble soon.

* * *

**Alright, I'm going to make some quick points here.**

**First, of all, the creepers are drunk on orange juices is only a fan idea. It's pretty appealing though. Except when there are oranges in a future update that does not make creepers drunk on orange juices then ok. **

**Second, Ben_j guy is not a villager. I would explain why the librarian called him Villager later, and if you squint maybe you'll find out. And he has something to do with everything in the future, and I will explain it. **

**Third, In this story, Herobrine can shapeshift. I haven't downloaded the mod yet because I don't have enough balls (and space in the PC, and also just changed my PC), so I never knew. A video in Youtube, however, inspired me so. I apologize for forgetting the title. It has something to do with two youtubers who met a pig, attacked it, and it changes to Herobrine. I completely forgot. Please tell me if you know the video I mentioned. **

**Fourth, there will be some Youtubers I mention here. While they won't do much in the story, but they are there for cameo and entertainment purposes only. Do not force me to include them in the storyline, because I will not. **

**Fifth, about Stan and Bobby which seemed completely exceptional from this chapter. I'm really sorry if that part seems unfitting in this chapter. And no. Please do not ship them (just yet (?)). **

**And last one, there is a very important detail in this story. There will be something that bugged you this chapter but I assure you, I will explain as this story unfolds, so stay tuned and if you get a bit confused, it is normal. **

_**BlackDragon41: That is really nice of you. ^ ^ I could use some ideas later, most probably. I like to write longer for details, though. However, I am a pretty lazy person at times. I apologize. **_

_**Enderdude: Thank you. **_

**Thank you so much for reading. Reviews would be very appreciated.I apologize if tehre are some mistakes in this story.  
**

**Stay tuned.**


	5. Chapter 4

**_Herobrine _**

**Chapter 4**

_Haunting_

* * *

Steve got up quite early in the morning and yawned, rubbing his eyes. Well, he got something to work for now. He revised whatever he know about this work. Fifteen emeralds is a huge 'wow' already, so he cannot screw this up. Three days is the deadline. He has to finish this as soon as possible so he has more time to build a thicker fortress due to his paranoia. _  
_

After taking a cold bath and changes into his favorite teal shirt and blue trousers, Steve crafted another iron breastplate and boots just for protection and three iron pickaxes in case he has to break down a path. Two iron swords, bow and a hundred arrows would be enough, he decided. Just for extra, extra precaution, he took ten TNTs with him, some bread and cooked chicken, an apple, a crafting table, and a bed as well. Not to mention reading the journal again to revise whatever he had learned. Steve sighed. Living is always number one priority.

Something is bugging him from the back of his mind, though, about the villager. He looks so different, so strange. Moreover, none of them know where he lives. Practically, they ask for stuff from him when he came to town, with low payments. So there are three things he should feel suspicious about. One, he looks like a zombie. Two, he knows where he live. Three, he called him 'Steve'.

When only that librarian and some random villager know his name.

Suspicious.

Steve shook his head. He should stop thinking about negative things._ Fifteen_ emeralds, man! He really won't screw this up.

Scooping the journal and placed it in a bookshelf, Steve uses his armor and went out to his favorite mineshaft.

* * *

Herobrine sat up when a creeper dashed into his room, bowed quickly, and jumps around, informing the miner's move. The king nodded in acknowledgement, then asked what kind of armor and weapons the miner was bringing. The creeper quickly hissed the description of iron armor (less the leggings) and a pickaxe. Herobrine raised his eyebrow, thinking. If Steve is using an armor, perhaps he also bring a sword. Judging with his shock and response of the first attack, he would bring more than one sword. Furthermore, mining gold is quite deep, so he might need two or three pickaxes, even more, perhaps. He would also bring a bow and some arrows just in case.

This miner might be a coward, but at least he is not as foolish, he concluded.

With brief and detailed strategy, he ordered the creeper to call back his fellow creepers around the said mineshaft, increase more spiders in the area for further report of the miner's movement and are required to despawn and report every ten minutes. The creeper also have to reduce the number of that day's mineshaft platoon to half and to not kill the miner at all costs. For today, only five zombies are allowed to patrol, since they are brainless, and he will not be satisfied if they killed the miner instead. Ten endermen will be sent to block the ways with two blocks thick walls to slow the miner down. More skeletons will be sent to monitor the area and they are to not shoot until further response are given. Half of them are required to mount their respective spider partners. He also added that all platoons are to be disbanded once he arrived in the area.

The creeper looked up and tried to remember whatever the king said, and he nodded in acknowledgement before bowing once more and scurried out to inform the others. Herobrine chuckled and lean down his throne.

Wonder how much fun the today's chase would be...

* * *

The creeper ran (creeped) down to the ground floor where all platoons gathering to get ready for today's watch. Some creepers were chewing on their gunpowder meals. Skeletons produced arrows for each of themselves in a very orderly fashion and almost robotic-like. Spiders were testing their wall-climbing abilities for their spying purposes, and endermen only stand around transporting gravels so the skeletons can extract flint from them or help the zombies put their leather tunic or gold armor on. (on their own request, however. They have warned the zombies about how weak gold is but they pay no mind)

The creeper jumped beside a sleeping ghast and it hissed loudly, making the ghast scream in surprise. Upon the signal, every mob turned to see the creeper, and proceeded quickly to their lines. The creeper quickly hissed whatever the Lord has told him, as detailed as possible. Some of the zombies decided to protest and loudly moan, hitting the endermen beside them or goes around and around on the same spot. With utter exasperation, the lead creeper explained to his fellow brainless comrades why they cannot come and how they will be punished if they decided to disobey Lord Herobrine's orders.

By then, all mobs for that day's shift quickly move to their lines on the obsidian respawn floor. Bobby ran to his line, two from the right as Stan positioned himself behind his endermen brothers. Skeletons marched uniformly to the creepers' right, and half of them mounted on their spider partners on their left. More spiders come to join them to the skeletons' right. Five zombies, as instructed, decide to march in a horizontal line, one scratching its already rotting head, and they went still as they waited for orders.

The lead creeper hissed a loud order and the mobs looked up as he stepped on a podium. He started briefing them of their job for that day and the safety precautions they have to take, as regulated on a daily basis. Bobby knew every mobs have remembered the codes, and he rolled his eyes, waiting until the briefing ends.

When the target description came up, however, Bobby jolted up and almost hissed in surprise. The target was the same person from last target! The creeper quickly tried to calm itself, thinking hard. Lord Herobrine has been hunting this human down. Could it be someone very important for Lord Herobrine? Could it be that this human piqued Lord Herobrine's interest?

Stan cocked his head a bit to see his partner looked down, seemingly focused on something.

_What was he doing?_ he thought. _Is he not listening to Commander's words?_

Before he could ask, the briefing came to an end. With a hiss and a nod, the creeper stomped the dirt with its hind right leg, and all the mobs saluted; except the creepers, who bowed. The Commander pushed a lever aside and with a yank, the obsidian underneath them moved as the pistons contracted, and within seconds, they disappeared through a vast purple portal.

* * *

When Bobby opened his eyes, he was standing in a small stone crevice. Slowly he moved out, looking around. He was in an abandoned mineshaft. Torches lined the walls neatly, signaling the presence of someone using it.

The creeper hissed slowly. He was not doing well as a leader of one platoon, so he has to repeat and make sure he got everything right for his strategy. The creeper swallowed. Well, that is not very important. Finding this person and slay him is his number one concern.

Looking around the area, Bobby turned and made his way to the East.

* * *

Steve arched an eyebrow as he stepped into the mineshaft, thinking. Gold, gold, gold... Where could it possibly be? He remembered seeing one on the West side... or is it South? He shook his head. He got to find out anyway.

Upon entering the mineshaft, Steve assembled his items. He has to make sure he can easily take all that he needs before stepping in. Swords in the first two instant storage boxes, pickaxes in the third to fifth storage box, and the food in the sixth and crafting table on the seventh. He also placed his bows and arrows on the last boxes in case a creeper decided to show up.

He inhaled deeply and walks in.

The place was silent. Eerily silent. Has it always been like this? He could not remember. It's funny though, because it was just days ago since he was attacked, and he had forgotten the previous days mining peacefully.

Steve flinched as a bat swooped in front of him and away, out to his back. He shook his head. _Gotta stay focused, Steve._ Constantly praying to whoever god makes Overworld, he advances into the massive tunnels.

Steve has a very bad feeling about today's visit. Would something bad happen? He always have strong instincts. Very strong, perhaps. The suspicious villager, the lack of mobs.. what else could have gone wrong. Steve stopped dead in his tracks, looking around. Strange... He was sure there was a tunnel here... leading to a vast amount of coals. He frowned. He has excellent memory. Slowly, he mined through the stones in front of him, clearing a pathway.

And there it was, a tunnel leading to the coals section, just like what he has remembered.

Steve started to fidget. What is going on? He could not have just sealed it off with stones. Especially smooth stones. Especially with _six_ layers of _smooth_ stones. He would seal some empty mineshaft with cobblestones but... smooth stones?

A loud moan quickly cut his train of thoughts as two zombies approached him. Steve backed away for a few steps, breathing in and out fast. Remembering what he used to learn, he slowed down his breathing. Left leg to the back, body hunched a bit, observe the closest enemy. Left arm ready, right arm to the back, relaxed.

And find the moment to attack, which is - _now_.

In a second, the zombie's head was flying into the nearby water source.

Steve quickly dashed and landed a hard kick on the other zombie's right side, sending it flying to a wall. Wasting no time, the miner ran out of the tunnel. He was now a hundred percent sure that something's very messed up since the beginning he opened his eyes. Something's evil and something wants him to die so badly. Hearing the zombie catching up with his pace, Steve spun around and drove the sword into its stomach, and slicing it inside out. The mob dropped dead and disappeared into thin air, leaving a piece of rotten meat, which Steve collected.

The miner panted and looked around. Much to his dismay, he ran _deeper_ into the mineshaft instead.

Curses.

Steve quickly moved to the exit, alarmed and very much frightened. Cold sweat poured down and soaked his shirt inside his armor, and his grip on the sword was shaky. Faster and faster he walked, amethyst eyes peering around for danger lurking in the shadows.

He has to get out.

Without him noticing, four pairs of eyes glinted in the dark, watching his every move...

And it disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Herobrine rose from his throne. What is this? The miner decided to leave? The spider in front of The Nether King backed up as he growled. According to his eight-legged spy, the miner is moving fast towards the exist, just ten minutes after he entered the mineshaft. Preposterous! For him, unable to read the miner's movement is a huge humiliation, and he slammed his fist to the brick throne, making the spy hiss in surprise and leave the throne room immediately. How could he have forgotten that that filthy miner is not an idiotic normal player, who would foolishly venture in for adrenaline rush? Of course they will because first, they are - _once more_ -_ not_ inside the game, and_ not_ a part of it. Second, they can die a thousand times and they can still play. Because they are players. Players are idiots at times.

But this Steve does not even know he was in a game. And this Steve is actually smart.

He should have seen it coming! How foolish of him, leading him into a place like a mineshaft when he was in a frightened state!

However, there is still something he can do... For once, Herobrine fidgets, very eager to put an end to the miner's life. Summoning another batch of spiders, he told them a new order to call more endermen, and the only thing they must do...

* * *

Steve walked out, exhausted and feeling like he was suffocating. He has been looking for an exit for a long time, and he could not find it... Perhaps he ran too deep into the mineshaft, or perhaps his paranoia made him forgot the exit? That cannot be!

Steve ate his bread and kept going. He started to remember. Here! This end of tunnel is to the exit!

The miner quickly ran out eager for sunlight and fresh air. He can tell the villager that he cannot get the gold because he was sick and he can give him his watch instead. Yes! That is a more brilliant idea than going into the mines again.

Almost stumbled on a cobblestone, Steve ran and ran before he slowly reduced his pace, slowly, slowly...

And he stopped.

He stared to his front, horror written all over his face.

The entrance was sealed with bedrock.

* * *

**Alright, I know you all wonder why am I not updating a lot lately. School's being a pain for me these weeks and I was just back from a camping with sore legs and hurting back, and I still have two reports to finish... So give me a break, would you? **

**I also have writer's block, sorry for that. **

**I believe as well that everyone wonder why Herobrine easily got upset with Steve's behavior (even when he does not mean it and all he wanted to do is to survive), it's still a long, long time to go. **

**And if anyone have an idea that Steve can just mine the stones around the bedrock, it is also not working because you know the Mighty Lord of Nether will not be so foolish to think about that, right? **

**So what will be the fate of our dear miner? Let's figure out soon. **

**And sorry if the chapter is not long enough or whatsoever. **

_**MyLittleMuffinZ: Lol one, Stan shook him a lot and two, he puked from drinking orange juice too much 8D. But yeah, maybe everyone bullies Bobby a lot**_

_**EnderDude: Thanks man! Here's the update now c:**_

_**BlackDragon41: Thank you! :D Herobrine acts nice because I like him not only cruel, but he can also be very tricky and very cunning as well. It's not going to be fun if he's an airhead, right? So he has to act a lot as well XD About that thing I said about something that may bug you... um.. Well... I have not worked a lot on this story a lot so... I forgot (PLEASE SPARE MY LIFE) and um... After I read again I think I remembered again 8D But no telling C8**_

_**WriterGirlLB: OH. OH YES, THAT IS IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH MY OVERWORLD-DWELLER COMRADE. (what.) anyway, diamonds and cookies for you too! C:**_

_**CSICreeper: Actually no (Sorry if it does not come out like what you hoped (and this is not a sarcasm)) because Jeb and Notch went away for a long time in the real world, just as depicted in my first chapter, so he is not Jeb. You'll find out more, though! And yes my friend, I am a huge fan of creepers. But there are no oranges and creepers getting drunk so yeah. No taming creepers. :'c**_

_**BY THE WAY GUYS HELP**_!

**I cannot seem to enter my friend's server I usually play in. Not sure if it's the update or not, but I can't play in Elementanimation's server as well. If you know what is wrong, please tell me? Your help will be appreciated!**

**I also am thinking if I can visit someone's server now and then... Not a while ago, my Minecraft friends stopped playing and it got really lonely in the server... Do you think there is an open public Minecraft server I can play in (and hopefully meet one of you guys)? If you do, can you tell me (I WILL REALLY, REALLY APPRECIATE IT. Gosh I am really embarrassing myself...)? My name will be SeriouslyNotPaul, and if the Elementanimations server work again, you guys can find me wandering all over the map like a lost person (basically because I am too scared to socialize, and everyone seemed so pro, and I actually met Chrisi there and I can't type anything because I was so shy so I run away. If you are reading this, Chrisi, I'm sorry :c) (Why do I even confess a lot in brackets...). I am really glad having followers/reviewers/anyone who reads my stories like you guys. Please help me keep making this a good story. I thank you for every comment and nice reviews you gave me. Thanks, guys. **

**Updates will come (hopefully) soon!**


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